


Orchestrated

by farfetched



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: Sat there, in the middle of a nice restaurant, dressed up all nice with a handsome man across from him, eating posh food and laughing and flirting, anyone would think it was a date.The key problem here then, Kuroo Tetsurou thinks to himself, is that they’d be wrong.Dial up the violins, internal orchestra, because this is the start of Kuroo Tetsurou’s imminent demise.[Or, Bokuto gets Kuroo into a fake relationship. It goes about as well as you'd expect for someone in unrequited love.]
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2020





	Orchestrated

Sat there, in the middle of a nice restaurant, dressed up all nice with a handsome man across from him, eating posh food and laughing and flirting, anyone would think it was a date. 

The key problem here then, Kuroo Tetsurou thinks to himself, is that they’d be wrong. 

It’s not that they’d be reading any of the signals wrong. After all, it is meant to be a date, or at the very least _look_ like one, for the very man before him. Bokuto, with his black shirt on, the top two buttons undone; enough to look hot, not so much that it could be called uncouth. Bokuto, with his hair artistically ruffled, something Tetsurou bets Akaashi helped with. Tetsurou can’t help but wonder what words were exchanged then. 

Bokuto, who apparently has no idea at all about Tetsurou’s big damn crush on him. 

It all starts with Bokuto’s bad idea for them to live together. 

Bokuto had begged him, saying that they already knew each other! They could revel in the freedom together, he had said, and he didn’t want to live alone and it’s not like Akaashi could live with him, Konoha was moving up to Hokkaido for some reason and Kuroo is his last option! (Which hurts.) Tetsurou refuses—at least initially. Not because he doesn’t like the apartment Bokuto already has lined up (he does). Not because it was far from the university (it wasn’t). Not because he doesn’t have the money, even though Bokuto insists he’ll pay all the rent (he won’t, or he’ll forget the bills). He refuses because principally, Tetsurou really, _really_ needs to get over said big damn crush. 

And now he’s here. 

Bokuto is hard to refuse, sometimes. It didn’t help that the part of Tetsurou’s brain that likes to be wild and free and daft said ‘hey, why not? Could end up with a hot boyfriend who you’ve loved for like, ever?’. The sensible bit of Tetsurou’s brain, the part that he should _absolutely definitely have listened to_ said no, because proximity really isn’t going to help, and Bokuto will walk around the house half-naked and give him all sorts of ‘hints’ that Bokuto means platonically and Tetsurou can’t help but hope are romantic. 

When wild-and-free Tetsurou starts getting all sneaky on him, saying ‘yeah, but you don’t have to act on anything, looking is free and he’s dense, he’ll never know’ and ‘but it’s down the road from the station and a 7/11 and like, ten minutes from university’ and starts to sound sensible, and Bokuto turns on the finest puppy-dog eyes he has, Tetsurou’s will crumbles like a half-hearted block. 

He gets an en-suite. He gets his own room. He gets a big open-plan kitchen. He gets a corner sofa and a TV. 

He also goes backwards in the crush department. 

As sensible brain mentioned, Bokuto does walk around the flat half-naked, and he’s a lot more sculpted than he was in high school. As sensible brain also mentioned, proximity doesn’t help. And finally, with sensible brain wearing a big stupid smug grin and whispering ‘I told you so’, Bokuto says lots of things that Tetsurou should take platonically but cannot help but wonder if it means something else. 

Hoooo boy. 

Worse still, as it turns out, that was only the start of it! Because of Bokuto and his big mouth. 

The story goes, from a desperate, puppy-dog-eye-deploying, drenched Bokuto who’d run home in the rain from practice just to tell him this: a fan got a bit over-enthusiastic and asked him to go out on a date with her. Bokuto meant to say ‘no, I’ve only just met you’ which apparently went through Bokuto’s brain to come out as: ‘I have a boyfriend, I live with him’. 

Dial up the violins, internal orchestra, because this is the start of Kuroo Tetsurou’s imminent demise. 

A simple ‘sorry, I have a boyfriend’ would have been fine. Yeah, Tetsurou might still have been a suspect because they live together, but it’s an apartment block, so it’s more difficult to decipher who is that actually is. His teammates might have muddled the waters some, presenting other options, plus anyone else that Bokuto meets up with on a regular basis. Fine. Nothing to be done. Tetsurou wouldn’t get involved in that situation. 

‘I live with him’, is, however, a very incriminating term. Bokuto only lives with one person. Anyone with enough internet know-how will probably be able to detect who his flatmate is, and when that happens, Tetsurou may or may not be doomed. 

So, the solution, as Bokuto puts it, is for them to date! In a fake manner! Just until all this has blown over and he doesn’t get killed by fans and Tetsurou doesn’t get killed by fans either. 

Tetsurou doesn’t think his danger quotient actually goes down in either scenario, but wild-and-free brain rears its ugly, stupid, annoying, trouble-making head and states, ‘well, if you can’t date him for real, this is the next best thing! He’ll think it’s pretend, so you get to do whatever you want!’ 

In short, here he is, pretend-but-not-really-pretend flirting with Bokuto. 

Because people who are dating go on dates, strangely enough. People who are ‘dating’ have to go on dates to make everyone else think they are actually dating. 

On the upside, the food is amazing and Bokuto is paying. On the downside… every single other thing. The crooked smile Bokuto sends his way makes him weak at the knees and glad that he’s sat down. His heart is not going to cope. 

While brains are very free to think things, and often do, hearts are not so easily swayed. Hearts see things they like and they want with all their might. They want and they want and they want and sometimes it aches so much it’s hard to breathe. And while his brain has the firm message that this is fake, has a time limit already imposed, and knows it is completely not what it looks like… 

His heart wants this _so much_. It wants to relax into this, to tangle his legs with Bokuto’s under the table and smile soppily. It wants to lean over and kiss Bokuto for the hell of it. It wants to hold Bokuto close and say that he loves him and know that Bokuto will know that he means it. 

That’s the real problem here. That it’s not fake, for him. Fake dating Bokuto would have been so easy _had it actually been fake for him_. And it’s making Tetsurou want to bury his head in his hands and cry. 

“Everything okay, Tecchan?” 

One of the myriad reasons he’s going to implode, the nicknames. Bokuto has never dated before, to Tetsurou’s knowledge, and he thinks the first thing Bokuto did when he decided on his plan of action was to look at a Buzzfeed article or something stupid like that, because first names would have been bad enough, but Bokuto has skipped right over those to cutesy nicknames. 

Tetsurou would like it a whole lot more if it was real. Then, it might hit cute. Right now it’s kind of stopped at ‘knife in the heart and _twist_ ’. 

He puts on his best smile. “Fine, Bokuto,” he says, and knows exactly what Bokuto will now say.  
“Come on! You can call me Kou!” He’s pouting. Tetsurou is very weak.  
“You know it takes some getting used to, Bo- I mean, _Koutarou_ ,” he tries, and hates how well that name fits into his mouth. Bokuto beams at him, and seeks out his hand on the table, holding it tightly.  
“Thank you, Tecchan!” 

Never mind die, he’s going to melt under this intensity of affection. Regardless, he twists his hand and interlaces their fingers. If Bokuto gets to get him into a fake relationship, Tetsurou gets to up the ante whenever he likes. The sensible part of his brain is screaming at him. He smiles sweetly at Bokuto.  
“Only for you, Koutarou-chan,” he murmurs, and watches Bokuto avert his eyes, scratching his neck with his other hand and his wide grin faltering, a blush crawling up his face. 

If nothing else, he will make this as uncomfortable as possible for the straight guy. No matter how much it hurts.

* * *

_Koutarou_ features in his dreams an unfair amount, starring his new nickname uttered huskily, which means that Tetsurou gets well acquainted with showers on the cold side. There is no mercy, not at home nor in his sleeping state. 

His one space not touched by Bokuto is university, which lasts approximately two weeks before people finally match him with his hoodies and bed hair to the internet pictures and start screeching about it. If he hears about the fact that he’s ‘dating’ a volleyball player again, he may scream. He adeptly puts them all back on the track of the seminar with a menacing glare, but it won’t stop the persistent ones. It’s on the internet now, a few pictures of them, and it’s gratifying in some ways that it really does look real. But Bokuto doesn’t keep hold of his hand when they get home, doesn’t kiss him goodnight, doesn’t keep his bed warm. Everything stops at the front door, when they get to an awkward silence that Bokuto only breaks by being adorably dense. 

Tetsurou starts looking for apartments for when this blows up in his face. 

Kenma texts him, the gruff care that he’s always shown.  
>> _you know this is gonna go wrong, right?_

He’s absolutely right. Completely, absolutely right, so Tetsurou takes a package of the essentials around to his flat one day in case he needs to flee when it does blow up. He doesn’t think Bokuto will be homophobic, really, but he might be mad. Tetsurou will be sad. It won’t be a good combo. 

So he drops off an overnight bag at Kenma’s, and doesn’t mention anything about it. Kenma will understand, if begrudgingly. As long as he doesn’t video-bomb any streams, Kenma’s apartment is big enough for him to mope in for a few days whilst he gets something else set up. 

The ‘dates’ have become regular. The longing looks are still real. The chill he feels upon entering their flat is real, knowing the arm will fall from around his shoulders and Bokuto will act like they didn’t just spend the last two hours flirting with each other. He’ll pretend it’s not all over the volleyball magazines. He’ll pretend nothing has changed. 

It’s a little late for that, but Tetsurou says nothing. Not when he ought to have said no in the first place. All this is pre-emptive punishment for when Bokuto finds out, and has to genuinely reject him. 

For now, though, Tetsurou smiles the best he can, and awaits the world ending.

* * *

Another two weeks later, they reach their month anniversary. It’s fake, but Bokuto insists they go out—drinking with the team. Oh boy. 

Worse, _no one questions it_. Miya teases them mercilessly, but Bokuto pouts and curls up into Tetsurou's side, a burning warmth Tetsurou cannot handle. Sakusa says nothing, but he doesn't really glare, and Tetsurou glimpses an almost soft expression on his face when he thinks no one is looking. The rest of them don’t even seem to blink, quietly jibing them but ultimately saying nothing bad, nor anything to imply they don’t think it’s real.

Tetsurou is going to scream. He's going to actually literally scream. 

He doesn’t. But he’s very close. The internal orchestra is very ready to burst into something dark and dramatic, rather than teetering on the high end of the violins for the tension building. Waiting for the string to break, the car to crash. It’s there, it’s right there the whole time, but somehow he just keeps bumbling on and the question of when things ‘quieten down’ enough to stop this– it burns like ash on his tongue, the one thing he never asks. It’s too much, but it’s never enough. 

Then Bokuto brings a cat home. 

Word is, a trainer’s mum’s friend rescued it off the street, and has been fostering it, but it’s ready for a new home now, and the trainer asked at the end of the session and Bokuto knew Tetsurou liked cats a lot and went, ‘hey, my boyfriend likes cats! And I can have one in my apartment!’ and somehow without opening his big mouth to Tetsurou about it, went and got a actual cat. 

Said cat, a female apparently, watches him carefully from behind the grate of the cat carrier. Unless Bokuto hasn’t borrowed this one, they’ll need one of those. 

Bokuto actually looks nervous when Tetsurou approaches, as though he’s going to refuse a cat. He had thought about getting one, but thought it would tie them together more than he could bear. When this goes wrong, who gets the cat? 

Technically, this is Bokuto’s cat, so he’d get to keep her. Tetsurou doesn’t even know this cat yet but the thought of having to leave her stings, and not just because of the implications of having to leave her behind. 

Leaning down a bit, he peers into the carrier. It’s a little too dark in there for a good look, but he sees her eye reflecting, ears twitching and nose going, trying to work out this new place. One eye seems to be missing, what looks to be a healed lesion where it would have been, no doubt a street accident. She seems about a few years old, going on her size, and from what he can tell, black and white splotched, judging from the patch of white around her good eye and white socks of differing heights. 

She is, for want of any other word, adorable. Tetsurou loves her already. 

“We should put her in a quieter corner and just leave the door open,” Tetsurou remarks as he straightens up. Bokuto is beaming. _Be still, heart_ , he sternly tells himself. 

So they put the carrier down in a corner of the flat, positioned so she can see most of the flat without having to exit the carrier, and quietly potter around the flat. Tetsurou almost forgets about her at all, except for when he has to shush Bokuto when he gets too loud while cooking, until there is a small meow by his feet. 

She’s staring up at him. Maybe not completely comfortable, but not shy either. He crouches down and offers his hand to sniff, an offer she gladly takes, eagerly taking a long moment to grab the scent profile of him, no doubt. 

Then she brushes her head against his hand. 

Tetsurou melts. It’s all he can do to stop himself cooing inanely, although he’s grinning widely as he gently scratches the top of her head. 

He didn’t think it possible for him to fall in love with something so quickly, but she has his heart, right there. Well, what isn’t glued to Bokuto, anyway, although she probably sways a good deal of it to share affections. On the upside, cats don’t fake their relationships. 

Feeling eyes on him, he glances up towards the kitchen. Bokuto turns around swiftly, although he does start to speak. 

“What do you want to name her?” he asks. Tetsurou feels his heart solidify somewhat. She’s not really his cat, not if Bokuto got her. 

“Dunno, she’s your… I mean, you picked her up and everything. You name her.”  
“Then… Kitty!”  
“You mean, kitty, as in, English slang for a cat? You’re calling her ‘Cat’?” Tetsurou retorts. Bokuto laughs raucously; the cat flinches slightly, but not enough that Tetsurou is unduly concerned. Must have been re-socialised well. If she’s going to stay with Bokuto, she’s going to have to get used to that kind of noise.  
“Is it? I just thought it sounded cute! Doesn’t it suit her?” Bokuto replies, blasé, stirring whatever he’s cooking for tonight. It smells amazing; the cat seems to think so too, losing interest in Tetsurou’s hand and wandering over to the kitchen and meowing at Bokuto. “Hey, cat! You want to be called Kitty?” 

The cat meows again. Possibly more to do with the chicken Bokuto is browning than anything else, but Bokuto takes it as an agreement and grins at Tetsurou.  
“Kitty!” 

Sensible brain thinks that it might not be a bad idea to try and argue. But it also concedes that it does sound cute, and she’s a cute cat, and there have been worse names for cats. 

Thus, Kitty begins her new life in the household.

* * *

It’s been two months now since Kitty joined them, and Tetsurou is ridiculously in love with both residents of the flat now. 

Somehow, he never manages to ask when the fakery was meant to end. 

The volleyball magazines haven’t really mentioned them in weeks. They’re a frequent fixture of the Black Jackals social sessions. Bokuto takes him to all the events, wants him at all the games, and pouts if he can’t make it. He’s still collapsing onto Tetsurou on the sofa, still saying things that make Tetsurou doubt that it’s fake, whilst knowing it absolutely is. 

Tetsurou’s past the point of no-return. The event horizon crept up on him and passed him by in a flash of whiskers, black and white hair and a wide grin in his peripheral vision. He’s in too deep to come out cleanly, now. Way too deep. How long does he let this go on? What if Bokuto meets someone he really does like and dumps Tetsurou by the side of the road? 

All these glorious things he thinks on his way back from uni, he mutters to himself as he unlocks the door and shucks all his stuff in a haphazard pile by the door. He’ll grab it later, he’s tired and just wants to sit down first. Volleyball practice went long, and they had presentations today, so mentally and physically, it’s been a long day. He’s not really up to faking a relationship too. 

Then he pauses, spotting the sight on the sofa: Bokuto, catching flies. With his mouth wide open, he’s merrily snoring, Kitty sat right in the middle of his chest in that favourite pose, ‘the Loaf’, tail tucked around her and her eyes almost shut. Her purring is audible as Tetsurou shifts closer, kneeling down once he's taken a picture. Or two. For posterity. For blackmail, he tries to convince himself. Kitty turns her head towards him when he scratches the top of her head, and trills in that way only cats can. Tetsurou sighs heavily, and rests his arms on the sofa, leaning his chin on them and putting his head next to her, so he can feel her warmth at the top of his head, his face buried into Bokuto's side. 

"Why can't I have this for real, Kitty? Why does all of this have to be fake when I just-"  
His throat burns, and he squashes his eyes tighter shut. He feels her brush her head against him, purring more loudly. He can’t breathe very easily, but he manages once he shifts a little to the side, and it helps with the effort not to cry—although not enough. He’s so tired. How long does he torture himself like this, his heart so adamant it can’t be false and his brain _screeching_ at his persistent stupidity, the inability to just ask if it can become real, for fear of breaking it all simultaneously. 

He can’t blame anyone. Bokuto wasn’t to know, although perhaps had he been a bit less oblivious, he might have guessed. No one told him he had to do this. No one said that he should. Bokuto could have said it was a lie to that one fan. They could have saved their money on all those dates, and he could have just met the team under no false pretences, friends and flatmates and nothing more. He’s only got himself to blame, which almost makes it even worse. What was he thinking? None of these things end well. He’s probably ruined things more now having pretended for three months than he would have done by telling Bokuto to go sort his mess out himself. But no, his stupid impulsive side decided to get involved and here he is, crying into Bokuto’s stomach and being comforted by a cat, who is proceeding to lick the living daylights out of his hair, thankfully ungelled. He doesn’t even have the heart to try and get her to stop, because it’s the only comfort he’s going to get right now. 

Oh, what a life he leads now. But it has to stop, so he can get his brain back. It has to stop, sometime. The only question is when.

* * *

“Tecchan?” 

His pillow is moving. His legs are dead. His eyes hurt. His arms hurt. 

“Tecchan? What’s up?” 

Reluctantly he leans back; Kitty has sauntered off somewhere, and a quick visual sweep of the apartment finds several paws sticking over the top layer of the cat tree, solving that mystery. Bokuto sits all the way up, and frowns at him. 

“Why you sitting there? Your eyes are red?”  
“Probably,” Tetsurou croaks, his mouth dry. Twisting away from Bokuto, he gingerly stretches his legs out, and awaits the shooting pain of unhappy nerves.  
“What happened?” Bokuto asks, swinging his legs off the sofa.  
“Nothing much, don’t worry about it.” He doesn’t have the strength to stop this right now. He’s too tired.  
“Come on, tell me!” Bokuto persists, as Tetsurou ought to have known he would. The orchestra are ready to crash into life, dramatic tubas and drums at the ready. 

“It’s good, I’m fine, Kou,” 

Yup, he’s in way too far. The nickname has stuck, in his tired state, it comes out, even though he doesn’t have to, here. 

Bokuto is silent for a good moment, in which the pain and paraesthesia in his legs begins to subside. The world outside is dark, waiting. 

“Kuroo, I think you’re hiding something from me.” 

He can’t say he’s ever really experienced his brain short-circuiting. Muscle memory is one thing, the body taking over in manoeuvres done thousands of times before, and reacting before the brain can. This is a total black-out. Supply lines cut from every angle, the city slumps to the ground and just _stops_. 

In that moment, he thinks of one thing. Without any other brain power, he unthinkingly does it. He puts his hands on either side of Bokuto’s head and pulls him down into a kiss with all the feelings that Bokuto still thinks are pretend. 

Bokuto stiffens at first, not expecting it. Has Bokuto kissed anyone? Would Tetsurou even know, at this point? Tetsurou has kissed a fair few people in this muddy game of trying to leave his feelings for Bokuto aside. 

It’s like a sigh of relief, but the orchestra prepares for the crash as his brain comes back online, and he jolts away just as Bokuto begins to push back. 

Bokuto stares at him. Tetsurou stares back, in horror. He kissed Bokuto. In private. No one watching. No one to pretend to. That can’t possibly be construed in any other way, but he’s too stunned by his own action to move, to think, to breathe, and he just waits. 

“Is this… real?” Bokuto murmurs eventually. Disbelieving. Horrified? 

That orchestra tunes in real fast as Tetsurou’s patience snaps on that violin string. The cacophony swells as he scowls. 

“ _Kou-chan_ ,” Tetsurou intones snidely, because this is all way too much, now. Bokuto has the gall to look surprised. “We co-own a cat. We were already living together before this farce. What exactly about this is _fake_? The hand holding? The cuddling? The dates? What about my feelings? Because I’m fed up of this being ‘fake’, Bokuto.” Tetsurou stands up, heart squashed in his chest. This whole time, Bokuto’s just had a vice grip on his heart and he’s been applying the pressure for so long now. On and on. At some point, the dam had to burst, his valves had to give up. “Fuck this, I’m stayin’ at Kenma’s.” 

He doesn’t get very far. Bokuto grabs his wrist and spins him around. Tetsurou’s face must be becoming more of a mess with each passing minute. 

“It can be real!” Bokuto shouts. He looks… earnest, at the very least.  
“Yeah right,” Tetsurou mutters disdainfully. This can’t go on any longer.  
“No, it can! It will, if you want it to! I want to!” Bokuto flaps, becoming ever more incoherent.  
“What?”  
“No, I– urgh! I didn’t know how to ask!” Bokuto shrieks. "You didn't tell me either!" 

Bokuto advances on him, and Tetsurou steps back.  
"Didn't know how to ask what?" Tetsurou demands, because not knowing now will kill him. Bokuto takes another step, but this time Tetsurou holds his ground. The orchestra is a light fluttery tune in time with his heart beats, uncertain. 

"If you wanted it to be real. If... you felt the same," Bokuto mutters slowly, never breaking eye contact. 

"Tell me, exactly, what you feel, and I'll answer that question," Tetsurou asks. Bokuto blinks, then smiles, shifting closer still. A hand snakes around his back to pull him closer, to keep him there. 

"I'm no good with words, so this will have to do," Bokuto murmurs, and kisses him. 

The orchestra falls silent for a while, too stunned. Both sides of his brain unite in ascertaining that he did indeed wake up and Bokuto is indeed kissing him, voluntarily, in private. As an _answer_. The hand at his back burns, and Bokuto is so close; Tetsurou can think about it more now, the feel of their lips together, their bodies pressed flush, the inexperience there. 

Bokuto pulls back fairly swiftly, but he remains close. He tilts his head in question. 

"Is that enough of an answer for you?" He asks, and Tetsurou thinks _no_. Enough? Never. He doesn't think he'll ever get enough of this. 

"Do it again, and we'll see." 

Bokuto beams at him, and swoops in again. 

The orchestra crashes into gleeful tunes, drowning out any other rational thought, every side of his brain united in joy. He ignores the smug tones of his wild side, telling his sensible side that everything turned out alright and ‘ _what did I say about the hot boyfriend_ ’, in favour of deepening the kiss with said hot boyfriend. Said _real_ hot boyfriend. 

For once, Tetsurou is overjoyed to start again. Because this time, it will be real, and therefore, infinitely better. He’s not sure if he’s ever looked forward to something so much. 

It’s been a long journey to get here, but he’s glad this one ends of a happy note, full of trumpets and jovial piano. This is the tune he likes to hear, and long may it continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as: the time Kuroo was so in love with Bokuto he actually didn't realise Bokuto was also in love with him. And spent three months agonising about it. 
> 
> I'm sure on the other side of this is Bokuto trying for the life of him to work out how to turn it into a real relationship without making Kuroo mad. 
> 
> Hence, that one tag. You know the one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! It was written as a pinch hit for abrightgrayworld on tumblr, for the Secret Santa exchange! Found this a little difficult to write, but I hope you liked this regardless!


End file.
